Under the Ginkgo Tree
by Evelyn Pak
Hidden in the remnants of the mountain grove,
The lone tigress prowls in the shadows of skyscrapers.
Her weary paws tread on scorching roads and shattered glass.
Glowing amber eyes that have witnessed
The birth of villages and the fall of cities like
Thousands of sunsets, each burning brighter than the last.
Eager hunters who smell of gunpowder armed with steel-tipped arrows,
Self-proclaimed scholars who confuse dreary smog with pipe dreams,
Arrogant shamans who no longer hear the ringing of bells over the clinking of coins.
Decorating her are pale scars that run parallel to the dark stripes that cover her,
Her prized pelt stained with the blood and tears
of her people and her prey.
Empty promises and endless days
Float and flutter by like soft golden leaves
Doomed to decay.
She waits.
Lurking, alone
But patient.
